


that one where dean buys an elixir

by rei_c



Series: The Genderfluid(ity) 'Verse [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Arguing, F/M, Family Issues, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Identity, Gender Issues, Gender Related, Gender or Sex Swap, Guilt, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 07:36:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6461512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rei_c/pseuds/rei_c
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes a while for Dean to work up the nerve. </p>
<p>(aka, dean's tired of arguing about it and worrying about it and wondering about it, so he just -- does it)</p>
            </blockquote>





	that one where dean buys an elixir

It takes a while for Dean to work up the nerve. He had the idea months and months ago and he's been tossing it over in his mind, worrying at it like it's a piece of gristle caught in his back teeth ever since. Sam would like the end result, Dean thinks, but if Dean wants to keep it a secret, he'd have to find a witch first, convince her to make it, kill her, and all of this without Sam finding out. 

He thinks about asking Sam, just laying it out there point-blank, but Dean knows his brother -- Sam would never go for it. Oh, Dean knows Sam's thought about going full-out and presenting as female, maybe even doing some of the hormone treatments; he's ridiculously defensive of people who've come out as trans or queer even if he does look at them with more than a little envy, badly hidden. Dean's had plenty of time to come to terms with the eyeliner that makes Sam's eyes look even more fox-like, gets off on the nail polish which only accentuates the beauty of Sam's hands, and knows that he'd love Sam no matter what. The thought of _not_ loving Sam is too impossible to even consider. 

It's just that Sam still has this thing about being normal, about fitting in, about trying to be happy with _what_ he is even though that's not _who_ he is. Dean thinks it's all a big pile of bullshit, to be honest, even had a few screaming matches over it, Sam yelling about their parents, what they'd say, Dean yelling back that he doesn't fucking care about them, Sam saying that he should, Dean saying that they're dead, okay, and "you're here and I want you to be _happy_ , Sam. Don't we deserve a little happiness?"

That usually ends the arguments but Dean can see the stubborn reluctance build in Sam's eyes every time it happens -- and it happens more than Dean would like. So no, Sam wouldn't like getting any witches involved and no, Sam wouldn't want to go through with this out of some fear that he'll disappoint dead people who are probably too busy in heaven to care what Sam has or doesn't have between his legs. Dean cares about what Sam wants, he does, and he doesn't want to hurt Sam, but Sam's _wrong_ this time. Maybe if it happens once, Sam'll see just how much of a stubborn idiot he's being about the whole thing. 

And sure, okay, if Dean's being honest, there's a little bit of greediness in it for him, too. The only person he's ever fucked has been Sam -- and that's great, Dean wouldn't change that for the world, even the three years Sam was at Stanford if the before and after don't change -- but Dean's been wondering a long time now what it feels like to bury himself in a woman. It can't be that much different, probably looser because Sam's still so fucking tight after all these years -- how is that even possible -- and maybe quicker, easier, but that's got to be about it. Sam's already got the nail polish, has the lipstick and make-up more than half the time, even lets himself go sometimes and wears the soft shirts and silky pyjamas he buys with a flush on his cheeks. 

There's no _way_ it'd be much more different, no way in _hell_ it'd be better, and if he's thought about it a lot since picking Sam up at Stanford, screw it; Dean's a red-blooded American guy who likes muscle cars and cold beer, he thinks about sex all the time. He just doesn't ever want to have it with anyone other than Sam. 

Sam's been male his whole life, even the days when he pulls on tights over shaved-smooth legs and wears fitted shirts that hug his waist and decides to show off perfect Southern belle manners. Maybe a change would be good for both of them. Maybe this'll put an end to Sam's discomfort in his skin one way or another, maybe it'll put an end to Dean's incessant curiosity, maybe they've earned it, just a little slice of something-gone-right-hallelujah-amen for once. 

On a crisp, clear, cold sunny winter morning, Dean leaves Sam in a motel room shower, meets up with the witch he's found, gets a small vial from her, and leaves her dead in the park, one bullet straight to the middle of her forehead. 

It still takes a while to actually _use_ the elixir -- but he does.


End file.
